


Quarantined

by whiteroses77



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Jealousy, M/M, Passion, Red Kryptonite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-07-08 16:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19872973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: The team are quarantined after a mission, and one of the contaminants happens to be red Kryptonite. How will Bruce cope trapped in close quarters with his teammates, one of whom is feeling decidedly reckless?





	1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Quarantined 1/4  
PAIRING: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,828  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: The team are quarantined after a mission, and one of the contaminants happens to be red Kryptonite. How will Bruce cope trapped in close quarters with his teammates, one of whom is feeling decidedly reckless? 

~B~

As they returned from a mission, the members of the team were grumbling as they were just about to disembark the javelin. All seven members who went on the mission were windblown and dirt stained from being inside the chemical factory when it had blown up around them. Superman had used himself as a shield as usual and taken the brunt of it. Everyone was fine, just tired and grumpy. Batman smirked internally; at least no one could single him out and claim he was the grumpy one today. 

The usually buoyant, Nightwing was even complaining, “I wish I hadn’t even bothered volunteering.” he muttered.

Aquaman snorted, “When you want to play in the big league, kid.”

Batman met Superman’s gaze and found he was already looking his way. With humour, his lips quirked at the edges and Superman in return pursed his lips.

As the door opened, and they all stepped out, sirens were set off as they entered the hangar. Everyone stilled in surprise. Then the feminine voice of the Watchtower mainframe warned, “Contaminants have been released inside the aircraft hangar. Please follow the red line to the decontamination suite.”

There was an even louder grumble from the group, before Batman, Nightwing, Wonder Woman, Cyborg, Aquaman, Green Arrow and Superman dutifully followed the red line. 

They entered the first in a series of rooms. Batman knew the procedure, he and Emil had designed the system. The voice urged, “Please remove contaminated clothing.”

Eyes widened and darted about in apprehension and incredulity. Nobody seemed to want to be the first to remove their uniform in front of everyone else. That was until Wonder Woman harrumphed, “Great Hera!”

Then all the men watched in amazement as the usually beautiful but now dishevelled amazon bended over and started on her red boots. After she slipped them off, she realised everyone was still just watching her. She demanded, “Come on, you men.”

There was a chuckle of nerves around the room, and then Green Arrow said, “You heard the lady, boys.” 

Then he started on his own black boots, followed by Aquaman, Cyborg, and Nightwing. Batman’s gaze found Superman, who although he was in just as much a state as everyone else, dirt stained and with his hair dusty and chaotic didn’t look any less attractive. At the thought, Batman frowned behind his mask. Then to distract himself, he pulled back his cowl and then began on his own black boots.

As Wonder Woman reached back to unfasten her bodice, Superman moved in close, and reached for the clasps, and murmured, “Let me help you with that.”

The other men turned and looked in disbelief. Calmly, she glanced back over her graceful but powerful bare shoulder and uttered, “Thank you, Kal.”

Superman smiled, “Anytime.”

Then he glanced around and saw everyone looking. He smiled widely, his smile even brighter within his dusty face, then he met Bruce’s gaze, and saw the surprise there too. Then his eyes travelled over the dirty Batsuit, and then he teased, “Do you want my help too?”

It wasn’t exactly the teasing from his more light-hearted friend that put Batman on edge that was normal; it was the over-confident gleam in his eye and the predatory curl of his lip. He cringed and then he asked the computer with dread, “Watchtower, is one of the contaminants red Kryptonite?”

Everyone turned and stared at Batman in horror at the prospect. Then the voice of the Watchtower replied, “Confirmed, Batman.”

Cyborg muttered, “Oh, shit.”

Then Superman rolled his eyes, and drawled, “Now don’t everybody start getting your panties in a twist, it’s not like I’m going to kill you all.”

Batman nodded, “That’s right, red Kryptonite makes him dangerous not lethal.”

Nightwing concurred, “Yeah like any real version of Clark would hurt us anyway.”

At the faith shown in him, Superman’s smile softened, “Thanks Dickie bird.” 

Although clearly surprised by the endearment, the younger hero nodded, and replied, “It’s the truth, Clark.”

Everyone nodded along too, giving their leader the benefit of the doubt and then continued undressing. As everyone else undressed, brazenly Superman looked everyone over with a keen eye, until his gaze met Bruce’s, then he grinned and then he began on his own uniform. First the red cape, then the boots and then finally he peeled the blue suit off. 

Wonder Woman finished first, and went over to the door ready to go into the next room. All the other men politely tried not to look, but Superman gazed at her outright, and said huskily, “You are breath-taking, Diana.”

She put her hands on her shapely hips, held her chin high and said, “I know.”

Superman laughed heartily in response. 

Her eyes swept Superman’s naked body, and she complimented in return, “You are endowed with great beauty, Kal.”

Cockily, he smirked in return, “I know.”

There was another series of nervous chuckles, nobody completely comfortable with their friend and leader being so full of himself.

Then Clark put all his clothes into the trays like everyone else. Then he turned, and motioned with his arm nonchalantly, “Is everyone ready?”

As a group they entered the next room, which was a shower room, with numerous showerheads, and soap dispensers. Everyone found a spot. Bruce could feel there was a combination of embarrassment, humour and paranoia in the atmosphere. While most of the men couldn’t help but take furtive glances at the beautiful wet amazon as she soaped her magnificent breasts, Clark got lathered up and concentrated on his own clean up.

Even in a room full of men, stoically Diana concentrated on showering. 

As another of their teammates got cleaned up, some curious glances were shot his way, until finally, Arthur came right out with it and commented, “So they didn’t replace all your parts. “

Maybe a little irritated, Victor shrugged, “You thought they made me into a Ken doll?”

Oliver smirked, “I always wondered about that.”

With bravado Victor claimed, “Well that bit couldn’t be improved upon.”

The other guys snickered but Bruce added, “The renal system is still the best method of waste management.”

In response to his comment, he felt everyone’s eyes focus on him, and he suddenly felt conspicuous. He wasn’t ashamed of the scars on his body but it highlighted his frailty compared to the super powered members of the team. He knew Oliver was in the same boat, yet he seemed to manage to escape too many lingering scars. He glanced across, and saw the emerald archer, who was standing next to Arthur, purposefully tense his muscles. It was an act of vanity stemming from him not wanting to be out done by other males. 

Arthur, he noticed was enjoying the shower immensely, his muscles swelling and flexing naturally under the source of his powers. 

Bruce’s gaze followed the line of powerful bodies, passing the nymph under a waterfall until his eyes found Clark. The leader of the group was now finished and leaning back against the shower wall, unfussed, his stance easy, his muscles relaxed. Bruce mused that the most powerful person here didn’t need to try to impress. He followed Clark’s solid, strongly built body all the way up to his glorious wet eyelashes. 

Their eyes met, and he realised that his friend had watched him check him out, and Clark’s lips twitched with amusement. It reminded Bruce that his friend was under the influence of red Kryptonite. 

Then he watched as Clark’s eyes slid past Bruce. Bruce glanced to his other side. Dick was there showering with his face to the wall, the shower spray hitting his shoulders, before the water slid down his younger and almost scar free athletic back and then down over his toned round ass cheeks. Bruce swallowed hard and his gaze darted back to Clark who was still looking his fill at Bruce’s protégé. 

A feeling he couldn’t describe slithered through Bruce, and he purposely took a step back, blocking Clark’s view of Dick’s body with his own. At the move, Clark met Bruce’s gaze and then pursed his generous moist lips, and he laughed under his breath at Bruce’s reaction.

Under Clark’s complete focus, Bruce had to finish his own clean up, and he could feel Clark’s eyes on him every second as he soaped his own skin, and then let the water spray cascade over his own muscled body.

After a few minutes, they were instructed to dry off and enter the next room.

~*~

After they’d towelled off, they each slipped into the matching sets of soft cotton grey tank tops and sweatpants. Then they were let in through the final door. They padded into a bright white living room area, and the others who didn’t know the design looked from room to room. There was a kitchen area that connected to the lounge where the rations were, a seating area with wash down couches and chairs, a room with a toilet, and finally a room with a number of simple single beds. 

Oliver and Arthur went to check out the kitchen. His sidekick turned and looked for a second at Bruce and then followed them over. Diana and Victor took a seat, and then Victor mumbled, “How long are we here for?”

Before Bruce could answer, the voice of the Watchtower revealed, “The exit will be opened in twenty-four hours.”

Clark leered, “Now what are we going to do for twenty-four hours?”

Oliver glanced at his friend, and uttered, “I’ll be surprised if you don’t break out of here before then.”

Lifting his towel that he still carried with him to his head, Clark said, “As long as I don’t get too bored.” Then he rubbed the towel over his hair with super-speed. When he stopped, his hair was completely dry, shiny and in soft tousles around his head. 

He looked around the area curiously and Bruce guessed that he was vainly looking for a mirror, and Bruce told him, “There aren’t any mirrors.”

From the look on his face, it was obvious that his friend was delighted in the fact that Bruce knew what he was thinking, because then he tilted his head, and asked playfully, “So okay, how do I look?”

Bruce gazed at him, he had the urge to tell him the truth and tell him how good he looked, and without the Kryptonite he might’ve just to see Clark’s blushing reaction, but here and now he held his tongue and didn’t say anything. 

It seemed that knowing what each other was thinking went both ways as slowly Clark smiled knowingly, and hummed, “That’s good enough.”

His brow creased. 

Clark’s eyes sparkled in response and then he turned away, and he stepped up over the low back of the couch where Diana was. He took a seat and leaned in and murmured something into her ear. Bruce watched curiously on. Diana’s eyes weighed up her Kryptonite infected friend, and then she nodded. Then he observed as Clark reached up, and carefully caught a section of her long black tresses between the towel, and then towel-dried Diana’s hair for her.

The act was careful and caring, and at odds with the usual perception of the effects of red K poisoning, but totally in keeping with the man Clark Kent was. Although, he wasn’t sure the normal version of Clark would think of helping Diana maintain or repair her vanity. 

Bruce turned around and he noticed that the other men were observing Clark and Diana’s closeness. He took the few steps across to them, and Arthur asked, “Is something going on there?”

He didn’t know, and so he told them, “Not that I’m aware of.”

Dick said, “I thought she was with Steve?”

Oliver leered, “What you’ve got to realise is that when he’s on red K, he wouldn’t care about that.”

“But she would, wouldn’t she?” Dick asked artlessly.

Arthur patted Dick’s shoulder, “Sure, she would, kid.”

After a few more minutes and a touch of super-speed, Diana’s hair was glossy and smooth, and curling at the ends. Clark caught a curl with his finger, and then complimented, “I did a great job; you look sensational.”

Diana looked bemused by the arrogance.

Then Oliver called, “Vic, catch.”

Then he sent a packet of peanuts over Clark and Diana’s head, and Victor caught them. Both Clark and Diana looked back at the group of men in the kitchen area. Oliver smirked, “Peanuts?”

Clark narrowed his gaze and said snidely, “There’s too many nuts here already.” 

He got up, and then walked over. And at the same time, Arthur picked a packet up, and uttered as he went to sit down with Victor, “There’s not much of a choice.”

Their poisoned leader muttered, “No kelp? Oh, Bruce you didn’t think to give everyone in our little group what they want?”

Arthur glared at the kelp jibe but then shrugged it off. But Bruce replied to the taunt aimed at him, “The process is about what people need not about what they might want.”

Clark met his gaze squarely, licked his teeth and murmured, “I know what you need...” He grinned at Bruce’s wide eyed reaction, “…and I know what I want.”

Then his gaze slipped away and found Dick as he leaned forwards against the worktop that dissected the two areas. Clark’s eyes devoured Dick’s ass again this time in grey sweats. He slowly licked his lips, and then met Bruce’s stone cold gaze. Clark’s nose crinkled and he mouthed, “Wow.” to Bruce.

He knew he was poisoned, and wasn’t in his right mind, he also knew that red K brought thoughts and feelings to the surface, but it didn’t make them up out of thin air. The idea that deep down Clark had those kinds of thoughts about his sidekick made Bruce feel a little sick inside. It wasn’t that Dick wasn’t old enough to be the object of affection, he was a fine looking young man, so it was something else that Bruce couldn’t name right now that was upsetting him.

When Clark sidled in behind Dick, reached for one of the ration packs and with the other hand touched the small of his back, Bruce gritted out, “Clark.”

His teammate glanced back at him, and then his lip curled provokingly. Silently, Bruce tilted his head to the bedroom meaningfully. Clark rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and then followed him in.

Bruce closed the sliding door. Knowing how thin the door was, he talked in hushed tones, “What the fuck is going on in that head of yours?”

With amusement, Clark chuckled, “Lots of things, you’d be surprised if I told you.”

“You don’t need to tell me, I can see.” he seethed.

His friend leaned in and goaded, “That boy of yours, um what an ass.”

A laugh of appal left his mouth, and he sneered, “Shit Clark, where the hell is this coming from?”

He whispered, “The way that he looks up to me so much… that could be very interesting.”

Bruce breathed harshly through his nostrils and he warned lowly but fiercely, “You stay away from him.”

Clark’s eyes glinted red, and he moved closer, much too close and he asked silkily, “Why, Bruce. Are you trying to keep him all to yourself?”

His lips curled up in a snarl, “Fuck you.”

Pretty aquamarine eyes danced with amusement, and he pursed his lips coquettishly, and he taunted, “Or maybe it’s the other way around, maybe you don’t want Dickie bird anywhere near me, is that it?”

Bruce’s chest heaved; he was caught in a tangle of confusion. There was confusion because of Clark’s actions, his accusations and there was suddenly confusion inside his own body. Then Clark reached up and his finger caressed Bruce’s lips, “I love that you’re jealous, B.”

The confusion in his body got worse, he reached up and grabbed Clark’s finger and dragged it away from his lips, and then he denied, “I’m not jealous, Clark.”

He raised a taunting eyebrow, the look in his eyes wicked, as he said, “No…?” he wiggled his head from side to side, “That’s too bad; I really hoped you were jealous.”

Then he turned, opened the sliding door and returned to the living room area. 

When he was gone, Bruce let out a deep breath that he hadn’t realised he was holding inside. He took a couple of steps, and sat down on one of the single beds. He glanced down at his own lap. Shit, he was going to have stay in here until the tent in his sweatpants had gone down.

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Quarantined 2/4  
PAIRING: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,558  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce comes to realise something about Clark.

~B~

It was a strange situation that he found himself in. He was stuck in a room with some of the closest people in his life and yet he felt ill at ease. Ollie, Arthur, and Victor were sitting around chatting easily between themselves about everything and nothing. There was camaraderie between them that made it obvious that they were more than teammates, they were buddies. Bruce himself had never been that kind of buddy to anyone. 

Over on the couch, the people there had found the unopened chess set that Bruce and Emil had added to the decontamination suite. Knowing that a twenty-four hour wait was routine, they’d added the chess set, and a deck of playing cards. Bruce observed as Diana and Dick stumbled through a match. Diana knew a similar game on Themyscira, and Dick had only rudimentary experience of the game. His hyperactive protégé never had the patience to stay still long enough to get good at the game, when Bruce had attempted to teach him. 

Both were his friends, though their conversation mostly entailed mission talk with Diana and training and the everyday concerns with Dick, he never truly opened up himself up to him. The truth was that the only person here even close to being called his buddy was Clark. 

Yet they were more than buddies, they shared the mission as well the rare deep conversation, Clark’s niceness and his calmness made Bruce feel like he could relax around him. Meeting Clark and possessing the knowledge that someone good and strong was there to take care of everyone, even Bruce; it comforted him. It was almost like how he felt about his father as a child. At the unexpected notion, Bruce shook his head to himself.

Exquisite oceanic eyes, nothing like his father’s found him, and considered him. It was unnerving, like Clark could read his mind. Then those full soft looking lips turned up into a teasing smirk, and Bruce was reminded yet again, that Clark wasn’t himself right now. The man who he knew best wasn’t here; in his place was a cocky smirking beautiful siren. 

Clark returned his attention to the chess match. It had surprised him, when the game had started, how Clark had taken on the role of referee. At the first attempt at an illegal move, Bruce had begun to open his mouth to correct the novice players, but before he could Clark had set them straight. Bruce hadn’t known Clark could play. He mused that maybe they could play together sometimes when Clark came over to the Manor to visit.

His musings ended abruptly, as he saw Clark reach out to Dick’s shoulder, and rub gently. The illness of ease that he felt doubled. At any other time, Clark doing that, Bruce would take it as a friendly encouraging gesture, nothing more. However after Clark’s red K fuelled display of lecherousness, it set alarm bells ringing.

Bruce huffed under his breath softly, and at the barely noticeable noise, his friend with super-hearing met his gaze. Bruce breathed the word inaudibly, “Don’t.”

Clark grinned bright and white and totally unconcerned.

He was distracted as the three buddies across the room came to a consensus; sprang up from their chairs and then went over to the kitchen area, obviously looking for more food. He understood, he could go for hours without thinking of food when he was busy, but when there was nothing to do, the idea of food began preying on your mind. 

He heard it as they found the MRE rations; as their reactions struggled from mutters of disappointment to gratefulness that they at least had something. Arthur groaned with relief as he found the cupboard where the bottled water was stored. He opened one and took a long glug and then let out a contented, “Ah.”

Victor asked everyone in the room, “Who wants mac and cheese, and who wants mushroom risotto?”

Dick turned in his seat, “Any desserts?”

Ollie looked through the packs, and then revealed, “Granola bars.” 

His sidekick’s blue eyed gaze found him, and his face creased with dismay, and he scorned, “Bruce, tell me you didn’t.” then he sprang up, and went over to check for himself. 

Bruce rolled his eyes, he knew they’d come across the chocolate bars sooner or later. Diana who had been quiet was obviously annoyed by the interruption of her chess match, stood up and went over too. As she went by, Bruce’s gaze found Clark’s, his friend eyed him leeringly, “Don’t you want anything, Bruce?”

He muttered quietly, “Only my best friend back.”

Clark swallowed hard, and said with an edge to it, “I thought you were smart enough to know that I’m right here.”

He sighed internally, it was true, he knew that intellectually, but it didn’t stop him feeling like a stranger to him. He said, “I know, Clark. I just don’t like this attitude.”

“You like the goddamned saint instead.” he mused.

“Yes.” he confirmed.

Clark eyed him lecherously, “He likes you too, B.”

Bruce’s eyes closed and he winced, “Don’t, I don’t like this game.”

His friend laughed softly, “You don’t want to believe me, but you’d be surprised what your goody-two-shoes thinks about inside this head.”

“Shut up.” he quietly seethed. 

“Do you know what your paragon of virtue wants to do to your mouth.” he asked huskily. “It’s always captivated me.”

His nostrils flared, he didn’t want to even contemplate the idea that what he was saying was true. Clark chuckled again, and then got up, and headed to the kitchen with a swagger. As he walked past, Bruce involuntarily checked out Clark’s ass in the grey sweats. 

As he walked behind the couch where Bruce was sitting, swiftly he caught Bruce’s jaw and he tipped his head back and then his soft lips descended onto his. The kiss was quick, and deep. Then it was over. Reflexively, Bruce quickly looked behind him. Luckily none of their teammates had noticed. His gaze found Clark’s with astonishment of the kiss itself and the brazenness of the act. 

Clark gazed at him intensely, before he turned away and continued to the others in the kitchen. He asked them ironically, “Do you need help warming this delicious food up; heat-vision is quicker than one of those heater things?”

Everyone appeared surprised by the offer, and then smiled their thanks. Bruce mused that to them he was almost Clark-like; it was only Bruce who was being subjected to the sensual menace.

Then Victor commented, “I was going to try my new laser.”

Ollie teased, “We want the packets warm, not sliced in half.”

Everyone chuckled in response.

He watched as Clark caught Dick’s eye and then as if it was a magic trick and not super-speed, Clark presented Dick with a bar of chocolate out of thin air.

Dick crooned, “Thanks Clark.”

Then Clark reached out, and he ruffled the younger man’s hair with affection. Bruce narrowed his gaze suspiciously; the action was completely platonic and brotherly. Then Clark’s gaze darted to Bruce, and then he swallowed hard, as if he had been caught out. Bruce gazed at him keenly. Clark took a breath and then returned to helping the other’s heat up their rations. 

There was a little something inside him, a niggle of doubt combined with a touch of incredulousness. He remembered his thought from moments ago, that everything Clark had done under the effects of the red Kryptonite had been aimed at him. A tremor of something nameless, something unexpected but exciting at the same time went through him.

He waited until everyone else had returned to their seats, with a packet of warm food and a plastic fork each. Then he stood up. He approached the kitchen to stand where Clark was. Clark offered wryly, “Want something hot?”

With bravado, Bruce smirked and replied with sassiness, “Not with an audience, Clark.”

Clark’s eyes widened with muted shock at his newly recovered confidence. Then he pursed his generous lips before murmuring, “Finally come to your senses.”

“You could say that.” then he snorted, “I know what you’ve been doing.”

Slowly, his friend licked his own soft full lips, “Really…?”

Bruce’s gaze followed the action, and he nodded, “It took me a while but… I know what you’re after.”

Wryly, Clark smiled and shook his head, “No, you don’t.”

He chuckled and then turned towards the counter, “Okay, I don’t.” he said nonchalantly, and then he perused the ration choices.

His air of indifference was a spur as he knew it would be, and he felt Clark close in behind him and whisper into his ear, “Tell me what you think you know.”

He glanced over at all their teammates munching away on their food, nobody seeing what was happening in the kitchen area. Bruce’s eyes found Dick, and then he spoke to the man so close behind him. “You’re not really interested in Dick; it’s just a ruse, part of the lurid game that you’re playing with me.”

Clark’s lips were even closer to Bruce’s ear and it tickled delightfully, “I’m very interested in dick.”

Smugly, Bruce hummed over his shoulder, “Yes, mine not his.”

His best friend pressed forward with his hips, and his crotch met Bruce’s ass, he groaned softly against Bruce’s neck, “And a tight round ass.” 

His skin goose bumped all over in response. He groaned, “Again, mine not my sidekick’s.” 

“Congratulations detective.” Clark whispered.

He goaded. “You’ve been provoking me, trying to get a reaction out of me.”

He felt Clark slide his hand between Bruce and the worktop; his fingers found their way between the hem of the tank top and the sweatpants he was wearing, and then he traced his short nails across the sensitive skin there. Damn, he was definitely getting a reaction out of him.

Reflexively, he arched back, and his ass pressed back against Clark’s crotch. Clark groaned softly, “You sound turned on by your discovery.”

He breathed heavily. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. His friend was still poisoned, but he was relieved that he’d figured out that Dick wasn’t in any jeopardy. But what of himself; he was letting Clark flirt with him, touch him, and he felt aroused by Clark’s closeness. His eyes found their teammates across the room again, and then he caught Clark’s teasing hand, and pulled it away, He turned and met his gaze.

Clark was already gazing intently at Bruce’s mouth. Bruce could read his intentions and tensed. He said, “We’re not…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, because Clark pulled him behind the partitioning that separated the rooms, out of sight and kissed him. The initial press of lips was hard but it quickly relaxed, and his best friend’s lips played over and over his tantalizingly. Bruce let out a little groan of pleasure. Then Clark echoed him and then kissed his way to Bruce’s ear and then coaxed in a sensual rumble, “Come on, baby.”

The siren was definitely working his magic, because Bruce couldn’t stop himself. He tilted his head, until his mouth found Clark’s and he kissed him in return. Clark’s tongue made a teasing dart, and Bruce moaned and he licked into his friend’s soft mouth. At his receptivity, Clark’s embrace loosened, but then his arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer body to body. 

With growing arousal, Bruce’s hands found Clark’s head and his fingers threaded through Clark’s silky hair. There was a soft satisfied moan caught between them.

The sound of it seemed loud to him, and he pulled back and said seriously, “This isn’t the time or the place for this.”

Clark licked his lip slowly, “You’re scared I’m going to bend you over right here in front of everybody.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past you in your current condition.”

His eyes were heavy-lidded, as he gazed at him, “Hmm but there’s a part of you that wants me to do it, isn’t there Bruce?”

He wanted to deny it, pretend that this taunting stranger didn’t know anything about him, but it wasn’t true, his best friend knew him better than anyone. Whether he sensed it or somehow understood him better than he thought, Clark was right, a part of him wanted to lose control, he wanted Clark to take control. 

The dichotomy of a friend, someone he trusted, cared for and liked as a person, today being a man who was an incredibly sexy, cocky, seducer was playing havoc with his libido and his sensibilities. 

He took a shaky breath, and Clark smiled slowly, “Maybe in a very naughty dream huh?”

Then Clark stepped away, and then almost normally, he said, “Here.” Then he took the packet that Bruce had been pretending to study and then he squinted at it until it was ready to eat, and then he passed him it back.

Bruce said sincerely, “Thanks.”

Then he grabbed a fork and returned to the seating area, and joined everyone eating their rations. A few moments later, Clark returned to the couch, and slouched back. As everyone ate their entrées, Clark unwrapped a bar of chocolate, and took a bite. Conspicuously, he let out a sensual sounding groan, and all their teammates eyes found him. 

Clark saw their reactions and chuckled with mock innocence, “What?”

Ollie commented, “It can’t be as good as you’re making it sound.”

“I haven’t had any in a while.” Clark revealed huskily. “I’m going to savour every last inch.” 

The three buddies’ met each other’s gazes and raised their eyebrows at the innuendo sounding comment. With humour, Clark glanced at Bruce and quickly he flicked his pink tongue out at the length of chocolate, and smiled conspiratorially at him. 

He felt like laughing at the same time that a tendril of titillation went through him. Clark held his gaze, wrapped his lips around the end until a chunk melted off into his preternaturally hot mouth and then he hummed again.

Obliviously, Diana asked, “Aren’t you having any warm food?”

Clark shrugged, “I’m still powered up; so the chocolate will do me fine.”

She huffed, “Lucky you.” she met Bruce’s gaze and complained, “I don’t plan to be trapped in here again anytime soon, but isn’t there any better alternatives to this kind of food, Bruce.”

The food was definitely edible, he’d eaten much worse in his time, and he didn’t see the MRE’s as something to complain about for such a short period. He rebuked quietly, “You want me to provide a private chef, just for the decontamination suite, princess?”

He heard a low murmur around the room, and knew that everyone thought he had bit too hard. Maybe he was a little tense. The amazon said condescendingly, “No, Bruce but some fresh food would be more tolerable.”

He shrugged, “Speak to Emil, he can tell you what’s realistic and what’s not to have in here.”

Diana said defiantly, “I’ll do that.”

His sidekick stood up, and said, “Who wants some drinks huh?”

It was obvious Dick was trying to mediate, and everyone agreed fondly. Knowingly, Clark met Bruce’s gaze, and raised his eyebrow at him. 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Quarantined 3  
PAIRING: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,715  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Now that he knows can Bruce resist the temptation?

~B~

Later after everybody had eaten, and they had given their food time to digest. Everyone split off to concentrate on their own thing. Victor and Arthur were playing cards. Ollie and Diana had started working out separately but were soon sparring with each other. The young acrobat was doing stretches and core strengthening exercises. 

Trying to find some peace, Bruce had gone into the bedroom to do some meditative Tai Chi. It was having it’s affect until Clark came in and he laid on one of the beds. He glanced at him lying there and saw his friend was just watching him with admiring eyes. Arrogantly, Clark smiled, and said, “Please carry on.”

Bruce took a deep breath, and he did continue and moved through another exercise, but he could feel Clark’s eyes on him acutely. He asked, “Haven’t you got anything better to do?”

Smugly, Clark stretched his body out boldly and said, “I don’t need to work out.”

He knew that and suggested instead, “You didn’t want to play cards either?”

“Watching you is more fun.” His best friend leered.

He breathed in slowly, and tried to ignore him.

Clark asked mischievously, “What’s the matter Bruce; am I making you nervous?” 

Bruce breathed out slowly, “I just don’t know what you expect to happen, while we’re stuck in here, while you’re poisoned.”

Clark leered, and asked eagerly, “So what would happen if we weren’t stuck in here?”

“You’d still be poisoned, and not in your right mind.” he said grimly.

His friend raised a taunting eyebrow, “You still think I’m pretending.” He glanced over him palpably, “Come over here and you won’t care who hears you when I make you come.”

A shiver went through Bruce’s body, and he gritted out, “I warned you not to do this.”

Clark smirked, “No, you warned me off Dickie bird, not yourself.”

It was crazy. He looked like his best friend. He was wearing nothing special, just the same plain sweatpants and a tank top as he was. But his hair was soft and loose, and his eyes were only for him. Clark had never been more enthralling. His liking for his best friend was incredibly powerful; his caring just as great, and now the siren lying on that bed was so enticing, and it was forcing him into acknowledging his underlying attraction to his best friend.

He cleared his throat, and told him, “I’m not doing anything with you while you’re like this.”

He asked silky, “So what are you going to let yourself do to me when the paragon returns?” 

He stared at him, and couldn’t respond. And it was because he didn’t know the answer. At his silence, Clark smiled fondly, just like his usual smile, and said with quiet sincerity, “You don’t have to wait, Bruce, I’m right here.”

He was drawn towards the smile of his friend. He went and sat down on the bed. Without thinking, he reached out and put his hand on Clark’s knee.

Keen eyes observed his hand on his knee, and then Clark murmured, “Come here.”

“You think I came over here for…”

“Hoped.”

He knew he might be being underhanded asking, but he asked quietly, “How long have you hoped?”

Full lips pulled back into a teasing smile, “I don’t know it just kinda snuck up on me.”

Bruce took a breath, “Since today?”

Clark shook his head, “You still think it’s the red K talking.”

He was stuck for words again. 

Then his friend grimaced, “I wish this hadn’t happened, why’d there have to be red K there.”

Bruce knew that poison this colour usually made Clark feel on top of the world. To hear him wish it gone was very surprising. He said, “Without the red Kryptonite you wouldn’t have told me how you feel about me.”

“Probably not...” Clark conceded, “The problem with Clark Kent is he’ll deny anything if he thinks it’s the right thing to do.”

“Why would you telling me how you feel not be the right thing?” Bruce asked.

Clark reached out, and he traced patterns on the back of Bruce’s hand that was still on Clark’s knee. It felt nice. “Because I know you Bruce, I know how much effort you put into your cause. Everything is planned out; even the times when you have to think on your feet and come up with something new, you’ve already considered the scenario at some point.”

“That’s true, so you think I can’t compromise and be spontaneous.” he queried.

His best friend leered, “I don’t know, but I’d like to see it.” but then his smile softened with affection, “No, it’s because I respect you, and all that effort. I don’t want to mess up your life. I know I wouldn’t want some asshole making some grand declaration out of the blue and then expecting me to change my whole life, change the way I go about things. And I don’t want to expect that of you.” 

Bruce swallowed the lump in his throat, and said, “You think it would make such a great impact on my life.”

Clark shrugged, “What I want is easy, what the paragon needs is more.”

He surmised, “More than sex, a devoted fulltime relationship?”

His friend snorted as if he’d told a joke. “You see that’s why I never told you.”

“You know all this, red K or not. So why would you do something or say things that are going to put us both in an awkward situation after this quarantine is over?”

He gazed at him intensely, and said honestly, “Because the red K makes me think that seeing you being jealous, seeing the overt attraction in your eyes for me is worth the distress that’s to come.”

Bruce’s nostrils flared. His friend’s self-awareness and also being the focus of all that desire given words was turning him on, and he was so close to believing that sentiment as well. 

At his restrained silence, Clark scoffed softly, “Telling you isn’t getting me what I want though is it.”

He smirked, “Poor you.”

His friend’s eyes glared red suddenly, and he knocked Bruce’s hand away from his knee. “Don’t you start with me, I tell you I want you and it’s not worth a shit to you.”

“I never said that. Don’t blame me, it’s not my fault you’re infected.” he retorted.

Angrily, Clark shook his head, and demanded, “Why am I still contaminated, huh or isn’t your state of the fucking art quarantine suite up to it.”

Bruce reminded, “If the shower didn’t get rid of it, it means you swallowed some in the dust, so you know what that means…”

Clark’s anger dimmed at the prospect.

Bruce nodded, “A high protocol member has to come up to allow it to be used by the system.”

His teammate winced, “And most of us are stuck in here.”

He returned his hand to Clark’s knee, “That’s right. So until then we’re stuck like this.”

Clark’s nostrils flared, “Don’t do that.”

Bruce frowned in confusion. Then Clark groaned, and then he caught Bruce’s wrist, and then suddenly Bruce was pulled along, and dragged over to him. They ended up face to face laying on the bed with Bruce on top of him, and Clark said fiercely, “Don’t tempt me.”

Bruce’s face creased with emotion, and he sighed, “We can’t Clark.”

Clark’s glinted, and he murmured, “Yes we can.”

Then in a blink of his eyes, Bruce was grasped, and they rolled over. Then he was pushed down into the thin mattress by his friend’s body. Bruce gazed up at his friend in surprise and then those soft pleasure giving lips were pressed to his. 

The memory of their last kiss and how good it had felt made him give into temptation again, and devoured Clark’s mouth. The solid weight of his friend felt comforting and divine against him and he spread his legs to accommodate his large frame. His hands automatically strayed down and grasped Clark’s ass.

His friend groaned, “Yes, I knew it.” and rocked up against him.

With enjoyment, he echoed his groan, and licked into his mouth.

But when Clark’s hand slipped down Bruce’s sweatpants, Bruce pulled away. A little breathlessly, he denied, “No, Clark.”

Clark’s face was flushed, his eyes soft, and a frown of disappointment creased the bridge of his nose. God, he’d never looked so beautiful. Bruce leaned back in and kissed him softly and then pulled away again and went to sit up. Clark let him. The conceitedness was gone, and his eyes were clear and bright as Clark tried to follow him, pleading quietly, “Don’t stop.”

In the background, they heard laughter from the others. Bruce’s brow creased, and he denied, “Clark, we can’t, not here.”

Then he turned away with regret, and then he pushed himself off the bed. He stood up and returned to the safety of the living room.

~*~ 

Hours later the lighting had been dimmed, the Watchtower mainframe was simulating the night time. It was one of the features that were part of the program that Bruce and Emil had built for the decontamination suite. Twenty-four hours of constant artificial light wasn’t good for anyone’s health, mental or physical. The effect had done what it was made for and everyone had drifted one by one to the bedroom to get some sleep.

Bruce was laid on one of the rudimentary beds, but sleep hadn’t taken him. There was a few reasons for that, firstly was because he wasn’t used to the dormitory environment, second was that everyone else’s ease at dropping off was irritating him, and thirdly, the only person who hadn’t come in to sleep was preying on his mind.

He didn’t like being put on the spot. And his best friend under the influence of red Kryptonite had definitely been putting him on the spot. Why did Clark have to tell him how he felt here of all places. He rolled his eyes at himself, he knew why. It was like asking someone who’d been forced to take a truth serum, why they were blurting out their secrets.

This wasn’t Clark’s fault, he hadn’t chased the red K, it was something that had happened to him, not something he had chosen. That was the real reason Bruce felt so turned about, the normal version of his friend hadn’t told him how he felt. 

‘What would you’ve done if he had told you?’ he asked himself.

When someone in the room began snoring, Bruce harrumphed, and he got up and he returned to living room closing the slide door carefully as to not wake anyone up.

When he turned around, knowing eyes met his through the dim light. Clark was sitting lengthways along the couch. He murmured, “Welcome to the lounge of solitude.”

Bruce’s brow creased and he shook his head.

His best friend laughed, “You lasted longer in there that I thought you would.”

He realised again that his friend knew him a lot better than he’d have estimated. He conceded, “I couldn’t settle.”

“I know I could hear you.” Clark uttered.

“I wasn’t doing anything to hear.” he denied.

“Yeah you were, your heartbeat never slowed down.” he revealed.

Bruce swallowed at the simple fact and the truth it exposed. His best friend with super-hearing had somehow memorized the rhythm of his heartbeat. He wondered, “You weren’t tired, I know you don’t need to sleep but…”

His friend revealed, “I like to sleep, I really do, but I didn’t want to miss you.”

He started at him mutely.

Clark teased, “I know you’ve got a will of steel, but even you have your limits.”

Bruce closed his eyes slowly, took a fortifying breath, and then opened them again. Then he stepped forward, and he climbed onto the couch so he was kneeling on either side of Clark’s hips, and he caught Clark’s head in his hands and he kissed his best friend. Clark moaned and opened his mouth for him. 

After a few moments, he guided him back, so they could look into each other’s eyes. His friend panted softly and so did Bruce. Then he murmured, “Promise me, Clark, promise me when this is all over you’ll think it was the right thing to do.”

Clark’s thumbs caressed Bruce’s face, “I promise that even if you don’t want us to be together afterwards, it was worth it just to kiss this mouth finally.”

Bruce smiled and he asked wryly, “That’s what you’ve always wanted to do to my mouth?”

His friend teased, “What did you think I meant?”

God, he’d tried, but he couldn’t resist and he guided Clark back to him, opened his mouth and welcomed Clark’s soft consuming kisses.

They were long glorious kisses, softer and more skilful and more sensual than he would’ve ever expected. He hummed into his best friend’s mouth, pulled away so he could ask dreamily, “Are you really this good?”

Soft exploring lips found his jaw and then his throat, and his friend asked against it, “You think red K gives me super kissing powers?”

He laughed, “God, I don’t know, I don’t know anything.”

Clark laughed breezily against his throat, and sucked at his skin.

Bruce’s laugh was cut off by his own groan. He undulated against him instinctively. He praised quietly, “Damn you’re good.” Then he turned his head and he kissed Clark’s neck. In response, Clark moaned and held still. He sighed, “You’re good too, but then I knew you would be.”

He whispered, “I wasn’t underestimating you, baby I just never thought about it.”

A cocky laugh left his friend, and then fingers were gathering the hem of Bruce’s tank top and dragging it up his torso. He didn’t pull it off, just left it around his armpits and he went straight for Bruce’s chest and wrapped those lips around his nipple and sucked. Bruce’s hand turned into a fist in Clark’s raven locks, and he arched into that pleasure giving mouth. 

Clark’s strong hands began caressing his bare back, and it was as relaxing as a massage. He instinctively rocked down into Clark’s lap. With a groan, Clark pulled off and licked the peak, and then moved over to the other nipple. Bruce sighed, “Fuck I’m getting hard.”

His friend’s strong hands continued caressing his back, and he spoke against his damp nipple, “Good.”

He laughed dizzily, “I’m not being a tease, I promise, but we can’t go too far.”

His best friend kissed down Bruce’s abdomen, as he asked, “Why are you a screamer?”

“No.” he chortled.

It was so strange, he’d say Clark was the person he got the closest to sharing jokes with, but they usually weren’t sexual or lewd, and now to be sharing that kind of humour with Clark was crazy, as crazy as everything they were doing.

“So why?” Clark asked.

In the spirit of things, he remarked, “It’s not the noise, it’s the come.”

Clark slipped his fingers down, and teased the waistband of Bruce’s sweatpants down, while replying, “There’s a shower room in there isn’t there?”

He groaned, “This system only goes in one direction, that door locked as soon as we came through it.”

The man, who was usually Superman, raised a goading eyebrow.

Bruce chuckled and stroked his face, “Yes you could break it, but as soon as you did sirens would go off…” he shrugged, “And there goes our privacy.”

Clark pursed his lips, “So you’re worried about the mess?”

“Huh-huh.” he sighed.

His friend tugged at Bruce’s waistband, and gazed down his pants at his erection. Then met Bruce’s gaze, and murmured, “You don’t have to worry; I bet your come tastes good.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, still surprised at some of the things coming out of his best friend’s mouth. 

Clark’s eyes glinted with humour, and then he leaned in and kissed Bruce’s belly and he murmured, “Don’t be surprised, your paragon would do the same thing.”

He grasped Clark’s head in his hands and took his mouth was passion.

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Quarantined 4/4  
PAIRING: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 3,084   
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: The quarantine is almost over, what are they going to do?

~B~

He thought he heard a noise, and pulled away from Clark Kent’s soft sumptuous lips, and asked, “What was that?”

His red Kryptonite affected friend smirked and whispered, “Nothing.” and then tried to reinitiate their kiss.

Bruce frowned, “I heard something I’m sure of it.”

Clark’s lips returned to Bruce's throat, “You think you can hear something that I can’t?” he murmured.

“No but…” his eyes rolled back in pleasure.

The man who was doing his best to distract him replied with a huff, “It’s just AC getting uncomfortable, he’s dehydrating.”

Bruce pulled back, and asked, “You said it was nothing, is he alright?”

Clark chuckled humourlessly, “You really think, I’d sit here and let a friend of mine die and do nothing?”

He pinched his lips together contritely, “Of course not, I’m sorry.”

His friend harrumphed, and then squeezed out from under him, and went into the kitchen, a moment later he returned carrying two bottles of water, and a cup. Then he tossed one bottle to Bruce and then he disappeared into the bedroom, and another moment later he returned to the living area.

He closed the door again, and came over. He took the bottle from Bruce and opened it and took a swig. Bruce frowned and asked, “What did you do?”

Clark snorted softly, “Don’t worry, AC will be alright now.”

Bruce frowned even more, and Clark snorted again, and then moved, and Bruce found himself flat on his back on the couch with his best friend over him, Clark leered, “Now where were we?”

He shrieked quietly as Clark dived and buried his face against his abs and then began kissing his way down. This time there was no deterring him, he dragged Bruce’s sweatpants down. His best friend gazed at Bruce’s erection with a critical eye, “I think we can make this bigger.” and then he leaned in with a wide tongue and he licked the full length. As his tongue left the tip, it flexed up to meet him, and Clark met Bruce’s gaze and smiled, and teased, “I think it likes me.”

Bruce bit his own lip and sniggered softly.

Clark’s tongue flicked the tip quickly, and Bruce’s cock stretched up to meet him. His friend hummed and then he sucked the glans into his mouth and hummed again. Bruce growled softly in pleasure, and his hand caught the back of his best friend’s head and he pushed in deeper. Clark groaned around it and took it, and then he descended further. Bruce’s body automatically pushed into it, and Clark swallowed until his nose met Bruce’s belly. In awe inducing pleasure, Bruce’s body bucked up and arched back, and he gritted his teeth, “Oh shit.” he knew they had to be quiet.

He grasped Clark’s raven locks and he made him look at him, and watched intensely as Clark slowly pulled off, with those soft lips stretched around his cock. As his lips finally left the tip, a shimmery line of Bruce’s own pre-come was caught connecting Clark’s lips to Bruce’s cock. 

Bruce groaned and he guided Clark up to him and he kissed that pleasure giving mouth. They groaned as they shared the taste of him. Then Bruce was pushing against Clark’s chest. It was a little awkward but Bruce pushed until their places were reversed and Clark was lying on his back under him. 

Clark gazed up at him soft eyed and eager, and Bruce grasped his friend’s tank top and pushed it up to his armpits and he attacked Clark’s chest with quick insatiable hunger, devouring his nipples. Clark groaned, “Oh fuck.” 

Keenly aware of the noise, he glanced up, met his gaze, and whispered, “Not here.” and then he kissed his way down miles of muscled flesh, and he didn’t stop, he dragged Clark’s waistband down. His gorgeous hard cock sprang out at him, for him and captivated he groaned, “Oh Clark, yes.” 

He stroked the length of rock hard flesh, and then he met his best friend’s gaze and held it in his fist and he took the glans into his mouth. Clark’s brow creased, and he prayed, “My god, yes Bruce.”

Bruce continued to stroke the length and he sucked the length meeting his fist each time. Surprisingly, Clark let him stay in control, or maybe watching Bruce’s lustful effort, his need for Clark to enjoy it, was more enthralling than taking charge and fucking his mouth.

He knew it was enthralling for him too, watching his best friend watching him with his cock filling his mouth. Enjoying the feel of it over and over, he was gratified as pre-come met his tongue, and hummed and swallowed, and he pulled off long enough to compliment, “You taste so good, Clark.”

“I don’t want you to stop…” Clark’s nostrils flared, “…but I want you to come in my mouth.”

He whined at the idea, and also because, “I don’t want to stop sucking your cock either.”

His best friend’s lips curled sharply at the edges, and then he murmured, “I’ve got an idea.”

Always on the same wavelength, Bruce smiled fiercely, and then with enthusiasm, he manoeuvred and he turned around top to tail on the couch. He guided his needy erection into Clark’s eager mouth, and as he sank into that otherworldly heat, he groaned. And then bowed his head and he took the hard hot throbbing length of Kryptonian flesh back into his own mouth.

As he fucked Clark’s mouth, he felt Clark’s strong hands caressing his ass cheeks, and then his thumb began teasing and rubbing over his asshole. Bruce mumbled “Oh fuck.” around his friend’s girth.

Clark mumbled something in return; it might’ve been, “Like it…?”

Bruce hummed softly in response.

They both groaned around each other’s cocks, and then Clark’s strong hands guided him into a harder deeper rhythm and in time, Bruce matched the rhythm with his own mouth, moaning with desire, hunger, pleasure and passion.

So much passion that he was racing to the edge in no time, and gasping he pulled off and spun around, and met his best friend’s knowing gaze. Clark’s eyes sparkled in the dimness and then Clark’s sure grip was stroking Bruce’s cock, and his other hand slipped between his cheeks, and his finger played with his centre. He groaned and squirmed against it.

As the first spurt shot out, Clark caught it on his tongue. He held Bruce’s gaze intensely as he swallowed purposefully. Bruce’s body quivered at the sight and shot more. Then Clark’s lips covered the head as his cock flexed, and he thrust into his mouth and he watched his best friend swallow his come, just as he said he would.

Clark groaned around him as he licked him clean. Awed and panting, Bruce stared down at him. Then there was a moment where there was no movement, and then Bruce reached for Clark’s cock and he jerked the length and it throbbed in his hand. Then he saw Clark’s jaw tense, his friend cupped the back of his head, and Bruce bowed his head and he caught and swallowed everything.

He groaned and stayed there and sucked the head until his friend’s body quivered, and couldn’t give anymore.

After a few moments, Clark caressed his hair tenderly, and then he guided him up to him. Clark panted softly with a smile in his eyes, and then as one they leaned in and kissed lingering, affectionately and sated. 

~*~

An hour after the lights returned to daytime settings, and just as they’d gone to bed, the rest of their teammates straggled in sleepily from the bedroom. The first ones commenting on Bruce and Clark being up so early, neither Clark nor Bruce was going to tell them they’d spent the night on the couch giving each other pleasure, before sleeping spooned together.

Then the grumbling started as one by one they realised they were going to have to drink the ration coffee. When Arthur came in carrying the cup, and empty water bottle, he asked, “Who the hell put a cup of water beside my bed and stuck my fingers in it.”

Everyone glanced around gone out, as if someone had played a practical joke. Ollie replied, “Why would anyone do that?”

Bruce glanced at Clark, and then Clark owned up, and said to Arthur, “That would be me, kipper.”

Completely baffled, everyone’s gazes turned to Clark then. 

However, Arthur nodded, and then said, “Thanks, man.”

Clark winked at his grateful friend.

Then as Arthur grumpily educated everyone else on his weakness, Clark played mother again as Alfred would put it, as he warmed everyone’s oatmeal up for them. They sat around taking spoons of their plain porridge slowly and unenthusiastically. After a period of silence, Clark said, “The menu definitely needs some revising. A little pot of sugar, syrup or honey would do wonders.”

It wasn’t a complaint, just a suggestion and Bruce took it that way, he agreed, “You’re right, I’ll add it to the list when we get out of here.”

He felt everyone’s eyes on him; he knew everyone was comparing his reaction from yesterday to today. If they knew what had happened last night, they might complain of favouritism however Bruce wasn’t sure if he’d have reacted badly to Clark’s suggestion at any other time or not. Then again it might still have been favouritism 

Clark gave him a small smirk as if he knew what he was thinking about. He realised then that he’d never taken his gaze away from Clark since his original comment; so obviously it wasn’t too hard to figure it out. 

He gave him a half smile in response.

~*~

A while later, after the empty ration packets had been dumped in the trash, the voice of the mainframe echoed from the speakers, “Will Superman alone please enter the door to the left, for the next level of decontamination.”

Clark’s eyes found his with slight apprehension.

Bruce said, “Watchtower, has someone released the green Kryptonite for use?”

“Yes Batman. Dr Emil Hamilton has come aboard, and permitted the use.” 

Arthur winced, “Damn, you’ve really gotta do that?”

“Yeah, it’s the fastest way.” Clark replied.

“To sweat the red Kryptonite out?” Victor surmised.

“Can’t it work its way out naturally?” Dick asked with concern.

Bruce revealed, “That way it could take weeks or it might not work at all. It’s too dangerous to leave unchecked.”

Diana commented, “I know its poison the same as the green, but you haven’t seemed too bad to me. I expected it to be much worse.”

Ollie concurred, “It’s true, it must’ve been a tiny amount, you haven’t done anything to be apologising for later.”

Clark and Bruce’s gazes met. His friend smirked softly, “No, nothing to apologise for…” 

Bruce read the look in his friend’s eyes, and knew how that sentence finished, ‘…but maybe something to regret later.’

Clark chuckled ruefully, and then stood up, and headed for the door on the left. Then Victor called out, “See you on the other side, man.”

Stoically, Clark nodded and then entered through the door.

After he was gone, Victor hissed through his teeth, “That man’s got brass balls.”

With confusion, Diana narrowed her eyes at the term, but then got the gist as she agreed, “To step into such a gauntlet knowingly is courageous.”

Ollie added, “The radiation boils his blood, you know.”

Arthur cringed, “Fuck that.”

Bruce revealed, “He had to do it, the longer the red K is in his system, the worse the effects are. If there’s a choice of hurting someone, or hurting himself, you know what Clark is going to do.”

Ollie shrugged, “That’s why he’s the leader.”

Dick grinned, “That’s why we love him.”

There was a round of yeah’s of agreement.

Bruce’s eyes found the door that his best friend had gone through, and he agreed silently, ‘That’s why we love him.’

~*~

Clark never returned. He’d have been worried if he didn’t know the quarantine system so well. He knew that once Clark was decontaminated, he couldn’t return in here. It seemed a very long time, from the moment Clark left to the rest of them being moved on to the last phase of decontamination. It was a simple medical scan to discount any contaminants or illness.

Finally they entered a room to find their uniforms had gone through a similar procedure of cleaning. They all got dressed in their clean and shiny uniforms, though they left their cowls, hoods and masks off for now and threw their tank tops and sweatpants into a laundry bin. Then they were released back into the normal hallways of the space station.

With eagle eyes, Bruce searched the hallways half expecting Clark to be there waiting for him. He swallowed hard when he found he wasn’t there. Was that disappointment that he felt, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything, until he saw Clark again.

Everyone said their ‘goodbyes’, and Bruce said “Bye.” distractedly.

He wondered where Clark was, was he on the space station, or had he gone. Was there an emergency, or was Clark feeling sheepish about seeing him. Maybe Clark did regret what had happened between them. Just because you’d thought about something didn’t mean you really wanted it to happen. And sometimes, things you didn’t think about happening, you found you’d wanted all along. 

“Bruce…?” Dick asked.

He turned and looked at his crime fighting partner, “Huh?”

“What’s the matter? I just said your name like five times before I got a reaction.” Dick told him.

He smiled, “Nothing, I just…”

Dick’s eyes widened in alarm, “Why are you smiling?”

He snorted and denied, “I’m not.”

Sceptical eyes narrowed at him, proof that his protégé’s detective skill was improving. “Something’s happened hasn’t it?”

“What could’ve happened?”

Dick raised an eyebrow, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d got laid.”

Bruce pursed his lips, and then deferred, “Why don’t you go home and get Alfred to cook you something nice.”

“And you’re not coming?”

“I’ll be there soon, I just need to check on something first.” he told him.

Dick frowned in confusion.

Bruce hid his smirk, and then turned and headed down the corridor. There were only certain places on the station that Clark frequented, one was the monitor hub, but at the moment there was no reason for him to be there. The other three places that he could check on the space station were his quarters, the observation deck, and the canteen. The observation deck was nearest so he headed there. If he wasn’t in any of those places, then he’d start with his apartment, then the Daily Planet building, and failing that he’d…

His train of thought juddered to a halt as he entered the observation deck. His red caped back was towards him, as Superman gazed out at the vastness of space outside. Bruce took a breath and then walked slowly in. 

He knew that Clark knew he was there; his frame was ever more stiffer than usual. However he didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge his presence. He imagined his turmoil, not sure where everything stood between them; if he’d ruined their friendship or not. He’d mentioned to him in the past, that under the effects of red K, that he remembered everything, but those memories were skewed by how he perceived the experience at the time. He might not be sure of the truth of how he remembered what happened.

Bruce hadn’t known how he was feeling until he saw Clark. However, the moment he’d seen him standing there everything became crystal clear.

With fortitude, Bruce stepped closer, and he snaked his arms around his waist, and he kissed his nape, and murmured gently, “Hello, Clark.”

He felt Clark take a heaving breath, and then his hands grasped and were holding onto Bruce’s encircling arms. Then Clark whispered timidly, “No regrets?”

He laid his forehead against Clark’s red caped shoulder, and he declared quietly, “No regrets.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out like that.” his friend told him contritely.

He harrumphed softly, “No apologies, remember.”

They stayed like that in that comforting embrace for a while, before Bruce had to bring them back to reality, “You were right, I can’t give you the relationship you long for. I can’t change how I go about things so drastically.”

Slowly his best friend turned in his arms, and met his gaze with solemn eyes. Clark said, “I know, I always knew.” He reached up and caressed Bruce’s cheek, “I’m so lucky to have had you just for a little while.”

Seeing his sincere acceptance of what couldn’t be, Bruce swallowed down his emotion, and said roughly, “You said you’d like to see me compromise, well I’m willing to, but you’d have to compromise too.”

Clark’s brow creased in question.

He coaxed, “Halfway, meet me halfway. You understand my life; I understand yours, we’re busy people and you know we can’t share our lives like normal people.”

His friend breathed in through his nose and queried, “You want us to just… for me to be…”

Bruce leaned in and requested with earnestness, “To be my lover.”

Clark’s eyes widened, he could tell he was surprised by the term, expecting something less meaningful, something more casual. Clark began hesitantly, “You mean so much to me, Bruce…

Worried about being rejected, Bruce closed the gap between them and kissed him gently, and then he bargained, “One day, we might be able to have the whole thing, Clark...” he kissed him again, “…one day, just a little patience...” And again, “...and try to enjoy what we can have now.”

Clark’s eyes were closed as he sighed, “Your mouth is just as good I remember it.”

Bruce smiled against his lips, “The red Kryptonite didn’t give you super kissing powers, you already have them.”

Clark’s eyes opened and twinkled at him.

He promised, “I’ll kiss you every day if you agree to my offer.”

His best friend let out a pure gusty laugh, and Bruce delighted in that sound. With eyes sparkling with humour and excitement, Clark nodded, “Yes.”

Bruce’s heart tremored and he doubled checked, “Yes…?”

Clark sniggered softly, and then he leaned in and kissed his reply.

The end


End file.
